


What happens when passive aggressive meets agressive

by Su02



Series: Haikyuu soulmate AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Kiss, M/M, Shirabu Kenjirou is a Little Shit, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, no beta we die like men, rated T for semi's potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Su02/pseuds/Su02
Summary: Semi squinted into the mirror, vision still blurry from his recent slumber. There, tucked just above his right collarbone sprawled the words Shirabu Kenjirou in perfectly neat handwriting.“What the fuck.”-------The soulmate AU that no one asked for.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Series: Haikyuu soulmate AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050068
Comments: 14
Kudos: 195





	What happens when passive aggressive meets agressive

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I do apologize if this fic looks choppy; I'm a bit new to ao3 and I'm slowly finding my bearings haha. Anyway, I hope you guys have as much fun reading as I had writing this :D

In all honesty, Semi never really paid much attention to Shirabu. Of course, he never failed to correct his wrongs and give off-handed comments on how the other could improve on his technique but that was basically the duty of any good senior. He knew that Shirabu had unevenly cut bangs which oddly complemented the angular structure of his face, he noticed he had a body all too slender for the savagery that Shiratorizawa volleyball constantly bestowed upon their players and, he knew Shirabu was as expressive as rock, second only to the renowned Ushijima. 

However, his blissfully impassive impression all simmered to shit when this aforementioned junior robbed him of his starting position as a setter in the upcoming spring inter-high lineups. Once coach Washijo had finished announcing the respective positions, he signaled for Semi to follow him to a rather isolated corner of the court whilst the rest of the team cleared out.

“Semi.” Washijo’s tone was gruff, stern, tethering on unforgiving. “Do you know why I chose Shirabu over you?”

A pin-drop silence followed as his coach’s lips thinned to a scowl. Semi knew. His personal refusal to toss to Shiratorizawa’s star ace whenever he could show off himself had costed him. Then again, it wasn’t as if they  _ lost _ or anything; Semi knew his strengths, and more importantly, his limits. Besides, they were Shiratorizawa - they don’t lose. Adjusting his posture, Semi tucked his curled fists safely out of view behind his back as he glanced up to face the music.

“Your ego is detrimental to this team! You’re selfish. Just because you can do certain plays doesn’t mean you should. Compared to you, Shirabu is much more willing to cooperate with the rest. If you want to think so much about yourself, you can do it on the bench.” 

Semi stifled a nod as he grit his teeth. Talking back to Washijo would be like asking for death so instead, he grudgingly accepted his coach’s criticisms in silence.

“Maybe it was a waste to give you the sports scholarship after all.” he muttered in a softer yet still very audible tone before turning round and stalking off to the exit.

Standing stiff in the now vacant court, Semi felt the confinements of his chest go hollow. He suppressed a shout as he pounded the wall with his fist, beads of sweat threading down his forehead and falling to the floor with a soft patter. He didn’t know what to do. Up till now, his life had revolved round volleyball; outings, family vacations, and even his own personal schedule had been planned around his training. Semi had always strengthened his resolve and maintained his determination to thrive, to prove to others that he was more than just another player in a powerhouse. That said, deep down, he kind of saw this coming. Shirabu had always been more willing to sacrifice his own glory for the betterment of the team. Despite being physically weaker, he made up for it tenfold in his game awareness. Semi knew his coach was harsh, heck, the whole Shiratorizawa student population knew that their volleyball club had a demon for a coach.

But why did it feel like his entire reality was shattered right there and then?

“Fuck.” Forcing his feet to move, he trudged towards the locker room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Swinging his training bag over his shoulder, he slammed the door shut and locked up the court before taking his leave.

\------

The following day, club activities resumed as per normal and everything fell back to the status quo. At least, that’s what the third-year had hoped. Walking into a rather empty court save for Shirabu practicing jump serves, Semi slowly set his bag aside with perked curiosity. Shirabu did not do jump serves… did he? Semi was fixated. He wordlessly watched as Shirabu let out a slow exhale, tossing the ball high in the air before he flung his arms back. After a short pause, the younger setter took three long strides and leaped, his lean muscles gleaming beneath the yellow lighting whilst he took flight. With his lips pursed in concentration, Shirabu furrowed his eyebrows ever so slightly, letting resolve flash across his guise as he forcefully swept his arm down to contact the ball.

Semi wanted to be angry. As petty as it sounded, he  _ wanted _ to direct at least a portion of his resentfulness towards Shirabu. But right now, Semi felt reluctantly proud at how far his junior had come. Replacing Semi and making the first lineup wasn’t an easy feat. In fact, Semi recognised that everyone on the main team shared a similar passion for volleyball and Shirabu was no exception.

Smack.

The ball was just barely out.

Keeping his pace languid, Semi made his way over to Shirabu. “You’re doing it wrong.” His voice echoed slightly in the empty vicinity. “You’re trying too much to hit the ball with raw power when your strength is in the calibration.”

Shirabu huffed, folding his arms as he turned to face Semi, his usual nonchalant expression plastered across his face. “I can't always rely on precision. You’re the pinch server, you should know how important strength is.” Tilting his head, Shirabu stepped closer, voice dipping low in an act of what Semi interpreted as passive aggressiveness. “Don’t you?”

Hearing his new position being uttered with such emphasis caused bitterness to twist in his gut. Resisting the urge to lash out at the younger boy, Semi settled for glaring. “Strength,” he began, his tone audibly harsher than before. “Is pointless when the ball cannot be controlled.” Letting out a soft sigh, he then continued in a more lighthearted but informational manner. “You should try to use your wrist more to control where the ball lands and follow through the motions to ensure the ball remains in the court.” 

Shirabu simply nodded before jogging back to the end of the court for another attempt whilst Semi headed toward the locker room to change into his practice attire.

Just like that, ten, then twenty, then thirty minutes passed without a single player reporting for training. Reluctantly breaking the silence, Semi enquired: 

“Shirabu, where is everyone?”

“You haven't heard? Ushijima-san texted the group chat this morning to inform us that training got cancelled because Coach went to draw lots to determine who we’ll face during inter-high.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Shirabu dropped the volleyball he was initially holding to rest his hands on his hips. Curling his lips into a smirk, he then spoke with unrestrained sarcasm. “Aren’t you supposed to be the all-knowing senior here, Semi- _ senpai. _ ”

Raising his arms in defense, Semi spluttered as his cheeks tinged with a faint rosy glow. “I just forgot my phone when I rushed out this morning.”

“So you overslept? How un-characteristic of a scholar.” Giving his shoulders a slight shrug, Shirabu continued. “Guess that explains the unkempt-appearance today.”

Semi sputtered, unconsciously taking a step forward before retorting in a tone a little too agitated than he intended. “Like you’re one to talk.” 

“At least my tie wasn’t crooked, Semi-san.”

And there it was again. Semi absolutely despised how Shirabu somehow never failed to find some flaw of his to exploit with perfect, controlled, ease. What infuriated him even more was how it always worked. Thus he faced the daily predicament of deciding between bickering or being mature for once and ending the argument. He chose the former. He always chose the former. Thankfully, before Semi could utter a retaliation, a voice came screeching from the entrance.

“Semisemi!” In a flash, the redhead sprinted right to Semi’s side and said a quick greeting to Shirabu before dragging Semi away to the student dorms under the guise of “Very Important Matters.”

\-----

“Isn’t it cool! It’s cool right? Look at it Semisemi!”

Tendou pulled the edge of his shorts to reveal a name written on his inner right thigh in bold black kanji -  _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _ . Still maintaining his overenthusiastic tone, Tendou glanced upwards to face his roommate as he continued: “Can you believe it? I actually got miracle boy Wakatoshi!”

And that was the que for Semi to zone out, politely nod every few seconds, and act interested as Tendou rambled on for the next five minutes on how great his boyfriend was. In the end, it all boiled down to the same thing; Ushijima had killer biceps, sculpted thighs, and his “strength and stamina were good for things in and out of the court.” Unfortunately for Semi, rooming with Tendou meant that he knew things. Things that made him want to bleach his brain with acid. That said, Semi was happy for the guy; him Ushijima actually ending up as soulmates wasn’t exactly unexpected but it was good news nonetheless.

“Eita!”

Snapping out of his daze, Semi was met with an extremely pouty Tendou rapidly flailing his arms about. “Could you at least give your best friend some attention in the happiest moment of his life! This is big news Semisemi! Big news!” 

“Firstly, stop calling me that or I’ll find a new best friend. Secondly… ” Patting the other on the back, Semi mused. “Congrats Satori, your dream has finally been realized.” (Semi would deny the slight hint of sarcasm in his tone.) “So, are you going to tell him?”

Tendou straightened his back, sweeping his fingers through crisp air in a grand motion before curling them into a fist below his chin to complete his pensive demeanor. “Of course! It’ll be SO great Eita! Just imagine, it’ll be like a shojo manga! First I’ll tell him then we’ll-“

“Satori, I don’t want to hear about your sex life right now.”

“But Semisemi!”

“Again, stop calling me that.”

“Lighten up Semisemi! I thought seeing your little Shirabu would put you in a good mood, no?”

Semi visibly froze, tints of scarlet blooming across his cheeks. Hearing about the intricacies of Tendou’s relationship suddenly didn’t seem so bad of a conversational topic.

“So what were you saying about Ushijima again?”

Tendou suppressed a laugh as his lips pulled into a leer. “So the Guess Monster is spot on once more.” Wagging his index finger, the middle blocker then slung an arm round the ash-blond, causing the other to stumble from the sudden weight. “You can’t keep things from me y’know!”

Pushing the taller man off, Semi rolled his eyes but there was no real venom behind the gesture. “Shirabu is so un-cute, don’t go assuming things.”

“Wow so you think he’s cute?” Letting out a wolf whistle, he then continued in a volume that Semi could only hope no one overheard. “Go get some Semisemi!”

Scoffing, Semi folded his arms, shooting a glare of absolute betrayal at the redhead. “I need a new best friend.”

“You love me.”

“Shut up.”

Tendou gaped, dramatically placing his hand on his chest. “You’re even speaking like Shirabu now!”

“Shut up!”

After much relentless interrogation, the two eventually got drinks to celebrate Tendou’s discovery. And no, Semi definitely did not think of a certain second year drenched in sweat, definitely did not recall how oddly attractive determination looked on the younger setter, and most definitely did not pine for any passive aggressiveness commonly associated with a particular brunette.

\-------

As inter-high drew closer, trainings grew more rigorous. Washijo became less of a coach and more of a slave driver as he drilled players with grueling sets and arduous punishments. Setters especially bore the brunt of Washijo’s wrath; being the main pillar of support only meant higher expectations and longer hours. Semi found himself fussing over Shirabu’s every move, althemore since he replaced him. Prior experience had made it hard for Semi to miss a mistake when he saw one but Shirabu being Shirabu, Semi’s advice often felt unacknowledged. Eventually, Semi sucked up his pride and did what every good senior would do - give some decent encouragement.

Be it fate or Tendou’s meddling, the two were left to lock up while the rest of the team cleared out, leaving them with no one but each other’s company during the walk back to the student dormitory. To say that the paved, winding route back was scenic would be an understatement. Sequin silver stars littered the stygian-dyed sky, illuminating the vicinity with its tranquil luminescence whilst gentle spring zephyrs gracefully waltzed amongst fallen leaves. The instrumental winds hummed an idyllic, somewhat musical tune as the aroma of nearby forests completed the soothing late-night ambiance. 

Semi would almost consider this set-up romantic.  _ Almost.  _ He stood corrected; sparing a glance at the shorter setter, Semi was slapped in the face with a view that made his brain instantly short-circuit. Shirabu was practically glowing; his porcelain-like complexion gleamed against the darkened landscape, his lean frame only serving to enhance his ethereal appearance. Gone was his usual poker face, instead, the faintest of smiles donned on the younger man’s lips. His eyes were a million shades of brown; hues of cinnamon, caramel and hazel mingled together in the sphere of his irises, as if blended by the careful strokes of an artist. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from training getting to him but Shirabu had never looked so  _ genuine _ . 

Semi barely managed to play off his mesmerized sigh as a disappointed one. Upon hearing his exhale, Shirabu stopped dead in his tracks and folded his arms in a languid yet annoyed manner, leaving an unsaid “what” hanging in the air.

“So uh…” Semi began, not quite sure on how to start such an uncharacteristic conversation. “I guess this is where I ask how you’re holding up since our first match is tomorrow.” Hoping to rid the slight discomfort, he proceeded to let sarcasm trickle into his tone for normalcy’s sake.“Don’t want our precious main setter to be all worked up and nervous.”

Shirabu barely reacted, save for his placid expression morphing into something slightly more snarky. “Ah, what did I do to deserve such a caring senpai.” Gaze shifting to meet ash-colored eyes, Shirabu continued, his words still laced with satire: “truly a blessing in my life.” 

Semi rolled his eyes. Any thoughts he previously harbored relating to Shirabu being pretty were instantly shut down. Biting back all snide remarks, he took a deep breath to quell his building exasperation. “Really. I know it can be scary and I wanted to make sure you weren’t a wreck so you can get enough rest tonight.”

“So you do care after all.” Shirabu leaned in, lips curling into a wry smile. “To think I’ve finally earned your love and affection.”

Semi’s heart stuttered as he felt the warmth of Shurabu’s exhales envelop his neck whilst his mind faltered at the sudden close proximity.  _ Screw Shirabu and all his antics. _ “ _ Right _ , I take that back.” Angling his stance to emphasize the stark difference in height between the two, Semi mused: “I’ll be waiting to replace you tomorrow.”

Shirabu gasped, feigning offence. “You wish.”

“Oh please.” Mirroring Shirabu’s expression with his own lopsided smirk, he proceeded to enunciate his words with full clarity. “I will.”

“Dream on, you know I’m better than you.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Hey, I wasn’t hand-picked to warm benches.” Placing a single accusatory index finger on Semi’s chest, Shirabu purred: “unlike you, Semi- _ senpai _ .”

“Fuck you.”

“So forward.”

“What?”

“What?” 

Shirabu quickly retracted, turning away from the Semi as his cheeks tinged with a deepening scarlet blush. A delicate silence fell between them while time stuttered to a lull, as if giving the two a moment. Semi desperately attempted to regain his lost composure whilst Shirabu continued to face away, internally chiding himself for his earlier remark. 

“A… Anyway.” Shirabu began, his tone unusually high. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

“Oh? What’s that? I can’t hear you very well.”

Whipping round, Shirabu kept his gaze glued to the ground. “I said thanks. I appreciate it… I guess.” Fidgeting with the hem of his jacket, he continued: “and it's uh… a lot less nerve-wracking knowing you’ve got my back.”

“My ears don’t seem to be worki-” Semi felt the air knocked out of him as Shirabu’s fist collided against his chest. Letting out a light chuckle, he shoved his hands into his pockets before uttering a soft “anytime.”

The walk back was otherwise uneventful. The back of their hands may have brushed one too many times but hey, who’s counting. 

\-------

The next morning, Semi followed his usual routine: wake up, splash his face with cold water, and stare at himself in the mirror while repeating the words “you’ve got this.” Little did he know that that morning was everything but normal. Semi squinted into the mirror, vision still blurry from his recent slumber. There, tucked just above his right collarbone sprawled the words Shirabu Kenjirou in perfectly neat handwriting.

“What the fuck.”

Oh no. No no no. Fate hated him. That had to be it. Either that or he was still dreaming. Bringing his palms level with his face, he shut his eyes tight as he slapped himself. Pain surged from his cheeks, leaving burning red imprints and fully awakening the man. Semi proceeded to glare into the mirror in disbelief as if staring at it would magically make it disappear but the mark remained, almost mockingly so.

“Shit. This is so not happening.” he muttered as he paced across the span of the bathroom. Semi was a good guy; he helped his juniors with school work whenever he could, he donated to charity every month, heck, he was even a regular volunteer at an old folks home. So what could he possibly have done wrong to become “soulmates” with a guy who absolutely hated his guts. In fact, Semi was willing to bet his entire inheritance that the only two things Shirabu was capable of feeling were spite and vengeance. 

Letting out an exasperated scream, the ash-blond pressed his forehead against the mirror in defeat.  _ At least he’s pretty.  _ Semi cursed under his breath.  _ His hair’s nice, he’s smart and things could be worse. _ Semi acknowledges exactly none of those thoughts as he exited the bathroom with a dejected sigh, leaving a very concerned Tendou peering over at him.

“Semisemi-”

“Right, let's go.” Semi interjected as he shooed the taller boy out, too conflicted to even comment on the nickname.

“But-”

“Hurry up, the bus will leave without us!”

\-------

They won that match, naturally. Semi almost felt sorry as they completely obliterated their opponent. Shiratorizawa doesn’t lose, not with such talented players assembled from all over Miyagi prefecture and especially not with the renowned Ushijima Wakatoshi on their side. That was, until they did lose, and to make matters worse, they lost to a random, no-named school whose glory had diminished long ago.

It sucked.

It sucked to watch helplessly as the ball fell to the ground, scoring the final point for Karasuno. It sucked to have his heart practically ripped from his chest whilst they thanked the crowds of supporters they let down, and it sucked to sit through the grim bus ride back where Shiratorizawa’s usually rowdy volleyball team didn’t make a single sound. 

The hundred serves turned out to be a blessing. Semi relished in the familiar sting on his palm, as he slammed the ball down on the other side of the court. Over and over, he mindlessly leaped into the air, muscles burning in a painfully sweet sensation. His breaths came faster as exhaustion seeped into his being until he could focus on nothing but making the next serve  _ perfect. _

Alas, all good things came to an end. At long last, the serves were done and dusted and so was his highschool volleyball journey. 

Now lying wide awake atop his bed, Semi had given up on sleeping. His mind wandered back to the match, wishing he could have done something, anything. If he got one more serve in, things might have been different; they could have gone to nationals. If only he trained harder, honed his skills with more determination, perfected his control until it was virtually impossible for him to miss. Damnit. Swallowing the lump building at the back of his throat, Semi silently left the room for some fresh air.

Standing in the dimly lit corridor, he grasped the railings till his knuckles whitened in an attempt to soothe the tirade of thoughts swarming his mind.  _ It wasn’t fair _ . The team trained so painstakingly hard, it just wasn’t fair for them to lose like this. Not when Ushijima was in the prime of his last year and especially not when everyone has fought tooth and nail to stay in the competition. If only he was better, if only he didn’t underestimate their opponent, if only he wasn't so wrecked under pressure. 

Semi let out a dejected sigh, glaring at the twilight sky hoping to find solace but to no avail. Soft cries originating from a lower floor snapped Semi out of his daze. Loosening his grip, he peered over the railings, barely able to catch a fleck of caramel in the corner of his vision. Without a moment’s hesitation, he instantly sprinted down the stairs to where he thought he’d find-

“Semi?”

Shirabu’s voice quivered as he slowly backed up against the parapet, his pale complexion radiating against the backdrop of midnight. The boy’s tear stained cheeks glistened beneath the hallway’s dim lighting as his eyes widened ever so slightly in shock. Inhaling sharply, Shirabu visibly bit down on his bottom lip to muffle a sob. Semi’s every instinct screamed at him to do something, anything but he simply stood stiff, frozen as though his legs had turned to lead.

“Shirabu?”

If possible, the younger setter backed away even more, fully pressing his back against the railings like cornered prey. “I… how… why are you here?”

Semi took a single, hesitant step forward. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“No, like,” Shirabu coughed, clearing his throat as he attempted to deadpan. “Why are you  _ here _ here. This floor is the second year dorm.”

“I heard noises from upstairs.” Slowly, Semi eventually eased himself next to Shirabu. “I… didn’t really expect to find you.”

The air stilled as an awkward silence fell between them. Semi noticed how quickly Shirabu wiped away his tears, masking his vulnerability behind an apathetic expression. Despite turning away to face the outside greenery, the brunette’s eyes were still visibly glassy, reflecting the sea of stars above whilst his dampened lashes appeared all the more stunning beneath the full moon’s glow. Shirabu’s lips remained tilted downwards, firmly sealed by clenched jaws as any remnants of emotion dissipated into thin air, save for the rosy tint on the tip of his nose. 

“You know…” Semi began, a trace of uncertainty present in voice. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

Shirabu lightly scoffed as he forced a nonchalant tone. “Cheesy.” 

“Shirabu, I’m serious.”

“Hi serious, I’m Shirabu, now would you please just leave me alone.” Showing no intention of continuing the conversation, Shirabu continued to keep his gaze locked on the darkened sky.

Semi simply raised an eyebrow in mild bafflement. “Are you really going to act like nothing happened?”

“What do you mean? You saw nothing.”

“That was not nothing and you know it.”

In a volume dangerously close to an exclamation, the brunette spat: “Why can’t you just drop it already.”

Firmly gripping Shirabu’s shoulder, Semi forced the other to face him. “Because you’re my teammate.” Wrong answer.

“Oh, so you’re being nosy because I’m your teammate? Because it’s an obligation? Fuck off.” 

“Fuck off?” Semi repeated, his words escaping his lips in a growl. Ignoring the painful clench in his chest, he continued in the same tone of voice. “Believe it or not, I actually give a shit about you so stop being so impossible and tell me what’s wrong, damnit.”

Shirabu stood still, his lips parting ever so slightly in shock but still finding it within him to hiss in defiance. “I told you I’m  _ fine. _ It was just a bad game and I messed up but I’ll get over it.”

Tightening his grip, Semi continued to nudge. “You didn’t mess up. Don’t blame yourself for this-”

“Semi, don’t.”

“I’m just saying you handled this game well despite only being a second year.”

“Stop it.” Shirabu snapped, audibly louder this time.

Adamant on making his thoughts clear, Semi pressed on regardless. “You had your head in the game the whole time and never even faltered once. Shirabu, your performance today is nothing to be upset about.”

“Damnit just shut up. I can sort my own shit out myself. I’m not weak and the last thing I need is you trying to pepper me up with empty compliments.” Shirabu shouted, his voice on the brink of breaking. 

Raising his voice as well, Semi retorted: “I never said you were weak.”

“Then don’t try to console me like I'm some baby.” Shirabu’s words were cold as his fists curled with increasingly feeble resistance.

“It doesn’t hurt to rely on someone.”  _ To rely on me. _

“I don’t need your help, or anyone’s help, I am fine.” Shirabu’s voice hitched in his throat, his facade one push away from shattering.

“Then why are you crying.”

Shirabu cursed, averting his gaze to the ground as he let his copper bangs shield his eyes from sight.

“Shirabu, talk to me.”

Still refusing to yield, the brunette shook his head as he kept his head down. Semi let his building vexation get the better of him as roughly pulled the younger boy close, wistfully ignoring the tirade of mixed emotions clawing at the walls of his ribcage. 

“Fuck’s sake Kenjirou, talk to me.”

Reddened hazel eyes finally met grey as Shirabu shot up at the mention of his first name. Digging his fingernails into the palm of his hands, he managed to choke out: “I hate that I fucked this game up for everyone.” Cursing again, he paused in momentary silence, hesitant to let the waterfall spill. 

“During the match point, I should have just tossed to Ushijima from the get-go. It’s so stupid, even a junior high setter knows to rely on the ace during the crucial moments, especially when its goddamn Ushijima Wakatoshi. Not just that, how could I have let Karasuno of all schools take three sets from us? Not Aoba Johsai, not even Dateko but fucking Karasuno. The game was unnecessarily close because of all my screw ups. I failed. I failed to make good decisions when it mattered. I wish-”

“Kenjirou.”

“I’m not done.” Shirabu was full on sobbing at that point, his shoulders convulsing with every sharp inhale as his sentences gradually increased in volume. “I wish it was you on the court and not me. You would have made better choices, you would know what to do. It was a big fucking mistake for me to play, I dont deserve to be the main setter.” Words eventually jumbled together into incoherent screams as Shirabu buried his face in his hands.

Semi pulled the smaller boy into an embrace. “Will you let me talk now?”

Shirabu said nothing, only giving the other a small, rigid nod before pressing his forehead against Semi’s chest.

“You didn’t fuck anything up. Coach picked you for a reason. You don’t know we would have won if I played, heck, it doesn’t matter if things would be different if I played.” Clenching his jaw, Semi pushed his pride aside as he gritted out: “Point is, the team needed you, not me. Even now the team still needs you, not just as a setter but as a captain too.” Softening his tone, his palm slowly shifted to stroke the brunette’s hair.

“And don’t say you don’t deserve to be the main setter, you rightfully earned your place on the first string, Kenjirou.”

Shirabu clutched the older boy in his arms, his fingers pulling the fabric of Semi’s shirt. “I just don't get it.”  _ I don’t get why we lost. _

Semi tightened his hold on Shirabu, securing the shaking boy in his firm grasp. Keeping his tone as composed as he could, he said. “You’ve still got next year, don’t worry too much about it.”

“But it won’t be the same.” Forcing in a deep breath Shirabu collected himself before tilting his chin to meet Semi’s gaze.

“It won’t be the same without you, Eita.”

Shirabu’s words made Semi’s heart lurch in his chest as the reality of graduation hit him all too hard. “I wish I could have played more with you too, Kenjirou.”

And that was when he saw it - the faint smudge right above Semi’s collarbone. 

Shirabu stiffened, a mixture of shock and some other unidentifiable emotion seeped into his expression. Semi’s pulse quickened, whilst his mind sputtered to a halt.  _ Oh, shit.  _ Semi remained frozen as Shirabu slowly let him go, shifting his hands to let his fingers gently trace his own name. The older boy watched with bated breath, barely able to register the other’s ghost of a touch, much less the implications of his actions.

Silence encapsulated the two as realization steadily sank in. Shirabu’s gaze shifted between Semi’s expression and the mark itself, a soft blush slowly spreading throughout his otherwise conflicted countenance. His shoulders remained hardened with pent up tension as his lips fell agape, fingers still hesitantly hovering over the onyx writing as though he was still deciding what to make of it.

On the other hand, Semi’s thoughts were a vibrant string of profanities. He half expected Shirabu to run, or curse, or even push him off the building. The silence was agonising; every second inching by as though they were hours. Finally, Shirabu spoke, his voice edging on a whisper.

“Oh.” 

That’s it? Semi desperately searched the other’s expression, hoping to find a glimmer of emotion. 

He found none. 

Winds rustled in a distance, prompting chatter from a cacophony of cicadas whilst time continued to lazily roll by. The sheen of tears were barely visible above Shirabu’s pale complexion, his copper fringe evershifting in the faint breeze. The younger boy leaned in and Semi found himself lost on a sea of hazel as the faint scent of lavender lulled him into a reverie.

_ Oh _ , he thought because suddenly, it all made sense. The constant bickering, the innate need to get a rise out of each other, the subtle way he began to realize more and more of the other until it was all he could notice.

“Kiss me.”

Before he could respond, Semi felt himself being roughly yanked forward. Shirabu’s lips were soft against his own, sending warmth trickling throughout his body as a million conflicting sentiments crescendoed forth in the form of pure, raw exhilaration. The kiss was far from perfect; there was teeth and tongue and it felt like they were waltzing a tempo out of pace. But it was still earnest and passionate making Semi’s skin prickle like it was set aflame. People talk about how your first kiss with your soulmate would set fireworks off in your mind. Semi would beg to differ. Kissing Shirabu was like finding warmth in the highest peak and light in the deepest depths. 

So what happens when passive-aggressive meets aggressive? Simple. Their reality implodes from within in all the good ways and bad; destructive like a supernova but just as sublime.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! Thanks so much for reading through this! Ah, as you can probably tell by the sub-par writing standards, this was my first fic so I really apologise for all the OOC-ness. Honestly, I struggled alot with... well... everything but I do want to get better! Any comments and advice/critique would be super appreciated and I'll definitely take them into consideration when I write. I also thank you for any kudos! Till next time :D


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